Elaine
by Pimpernelunderthecelticmoon
Summary: This is the tragic story of Elaine, told by mio, half the beautiful poem of The Lady of Shallot. Please Review!


**Disclaimer: I do not own King Arthur. No one knows who does…MAYBE I DO! Oh, and I don't own Tennyson either. **

**Yet! The song Elaine sings in MINE! COPYRIGHT ON IT!**

_On either side the river lie  
Long fields of barley and of rye,  
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;  
And thro' the field the road runs by  
To many-tower'd Camelot;  
And up and down the people go,  
Gazing where the lilies blow  
Round an island there below,  
The island of Shalott._

The wind whistled through the trees which grew on either side of the river. Birds were shrilling peacefully amongst the midmost branches. Everywhere was serenity and tranquility, save one place. The grimy rode that led to Camelot, travelers rode non-stop. Babes cried, men swore, woman screamed and argued. Only a single human being was there to witness the scene though, only one, out on the island of Shallot.

_Willows whiten, aspens quiver,  
little breezes dusk and shiver  
Thro' the wave that runs for ever  
by the island in the river  
Flowing down to Camelot.  
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,   
Overlook a space of flowers,   
and the silent isle imbowers   
The Lady of Shalott_

The isle of Shallot was a dismal place, utterly uninhabited except for a lonesome castle over looking the river. The four towers which encircled its walls, a knight or guardsman had never stood. Nor had ladies and nobles walked upon its ground. Or a squire hunted in its woods.

_By the margin, willow veil'd,  
Slide the heavy barges trail'd  
By slow horses; and unhail'd  
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd  
Skimming down to Camelot:  
But who hath seen her wave her hand?  
Or at the casement seen her stand?  
Or is she known in all the land,  
The Lady of Shalott?_

Yet there was a rumor amid the people of Camelot. There was a veiled window in the top most towers, and from the window the story had come. Men and women on their way to Camelot, when traveling slowly at night had at times seen a shadow behind the purpled curtain, or heard a voice echoing amongst the ruin.

_Only reapers, reaping early_  
_In among the bearded barley,_  
_Hear a song that echoes cheerly_  
_From the river winding clearly,_  
_Down to tower'd Camelot:_  
_And by the moon the reaper weary,_   
_Piling sheaves in uplands airy,_   
_Listening, whispers " 'Tis the fairy_  
_Lady of Shalott."_

Just at the river's edge on the other side of Shallot there stood a barley field. Farmers that worked there swore that in the early morn one could hear a voice singing from the castle.

"Tis the fairy," one would mutter, the others would agree. After time past this maiden of shallot was given a name

'The lady of Shallot,'

_There she weaves by night and day_  
_a magic web with colours gay._  
_She has heard a whisper say,_  
_a curse is on her if she stay_  
_to look down to Camelot._  
_She knows not what the curse may be,_   
_and so she weaveth steadily,_   
_And little other care hath she,_   
_The Lady of Shalott_

Elaine was her name, and she sat solemn in that chamber, above the river, staring at a mirror. When Elaine's mother had given birth, a fairy was present. This fairy of evil intentions cursed, Elaine could never leave Shallot, and she could never look upon Camelot. Elaine never knew what would happen if she looked upon Camelot, but she dare not. So, Elaine set a mirror before the window so that she could see the people on the road to Camelot.

Elaine would weave everything she witnessed in the Mirror; the whole castle was full of her creations.

_And moving thro' a mirror clear_  
_that hangs before her all the year,_   
_Shadows of the world appear._   
_There she sees the highway near_   
_Winding down to Camelot:_   
_There the river eddy whirls,_   
_and there the surly village-churls,_  
_And the red cloaks of market girls,_   
_Pass onward from Shalott_

Elaine sat in her chamber, the mirror before her, and as she watched a sand piper flitting across the barley fields, three red clad girls came running from market. They were all around the same height. One with golden locks, and dressed finely, and walked with proper pride. Another was running far ahead, and calling for the others to go faster, while her blue eyes spat flames of impatience. The third ahead of the golden haired girl, yer behind the latter was laughing gaily.

_Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,_  
_An abbot on an ambling pad,_  
_Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,_  
_Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,_   
_Goes by to tower'd Camelot;_   
_And sometimes thro' the mirror blue_  
_The knights come riding two and two:_   
_She hath no loyal knight and true,_  
_The Lady of Shalott._

Elaine gasped in awe, her boredom slunk away, there walking down the dusty way was an Abbot, and he was a jolly fellow with a notebook, writing down things for a curly haired lad to memorize. She could hear the Latin rumbling up to her window,

"Pater noster qui es in caelis, sanctifitur nomen, tuum, adveniat regnum tuum, fiat voluntas Tua sicut en caelo et in terra…"

Tears sprang to her eyes, as she remembered before her mother's death how she had taught her the, 'Our Father.'

Behind the Abbot and boy were two knights. They were obviously escorting the pair to the nearest monastery. Elaine remembered Lancelot, and wept.

_But in her web she still delights_  
_To weave the mirror's magic sights,_   
_For often thro' the silent nights_   
_A funeral, with plumes and lights_   
_And music, went to Camelot:_   
_Or when the moon was overhead,_   
_Came two young lovers lately wed:_   
_"I am half sick of shadows," said_  
_The Lady of Shalott_

Elaine looked in the mirror, it was late, and the midnight sky hid her shadow in the window. Walking along the road were two figures, a male and a female. The girl was leaning against the man's chest, and he stopped and kissed her lips softly, she played with his hair, and then continued on the road headed for the gardens.

Elaine wanted that, she wanted what they had, their love, she wanted something real, not just the blurry apparitions. She began to weave the lovers before the memory slipped away.

_A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,_  
_He rode between the barley-sheaves,_   
_the sun came dazzling thro' the leaves_  
_and flamed upon the brazen greaves_  
_of bold Sir Lancelot._  
_A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd_   
_to a lady in his shield,_   
_that sparkled on the yellow field,_  
_beside remote Shalott_

Elaine was awakened by the sound of hooves; she rubbed her eyes, and looked in the mirror, still shaken by the lovers the night before. Yet in the mirror came the figure of a man, her heart thudded in her throat. Lancelot!

_The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,_  
_like to some branch of stars we see_  
_Hung in the golden Galaxy._  
_The bridle bells rang merrily_  
_as he rode down to Camelot:_  
_And from his blazon'd baldric slung_  
_A mighty silver bugle hung,_  
_and as he rode his armour rung,_  
_beside remote Shalott___

Had he come for her? Elaine whispered barely daring to hope. His horse so noble carried him, and he rode it gracefully, Elaine watched in a trance.

_All in the blue unclouded weather_   
_Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather_  
_the helmet and the helmet-feather_   
_Burn'd like one burning flame together,_  
_as he rode down to Camelot._  
_As often thro' the purple night,_  
_Below the starry clusters bright,_  
_Some bearded meteor, trailing light,_   
_Moves over still Shalott_

Lancelot rode around the castle of Shallot. How often he had come here at nights, he didn't know why.

Yet what had possessed him today to come in broad daylight? His heart of course lay with the queen, but part of him seemed to have stayed with Elaine, ever since he had fathered her child.

_His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;_   
_On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;_  
_From underneath his helmet flow'd_  
_His coal-black curls as on he rode,_  
_As he rode down to Camelot._  
_From the bank and from the river_  
_He flash'd into the crystal mirror,_   
_"Tirra lirra," by the river_  
_Sang Sir Lancelot._

Elaine stared in awe and horror in the same time. After he had taken Galahad from her, she would never forgive him, then why this? Why now? It made no sense.

_She left the web, she left the loom,_   
_She made three paces thro' the room,_  
_She saw the water-lily bloom,_  
_She saw the helmet and the plume,_  
_She look'd down to Camelot._  
_Out flew the web and floated wide;_  
_the mirror crack'd from side to side;_   
_"The curse is come upon me," cried_  
_The Lady of Shalott_

Lancelot disappeared, going across the isle headed for Camelot.

Elaine decided she didn't care why he had come. She couldn't stay here any longer. She wanted the air, she wanted the trees, and the stars, and wanted love, true love, not the fake affection Lancelot had showered on her, but the admiration she had seen in the lovers' eyes.

She left the castle, and stumbled into the grounds. The sun hit her in the face, and she blinked like an owl.

Elaine explored every inch of Shallot, she saw the water lilies blooming, and she say Lancelot disappearing on the horizon.

When the afternoon was coming to a close, Elaine smothered her fear, and looked upon the towers of Camelot.

Suddenly thundered sounded in the sky, she ran fearing rain, but just as she was coming to the castle wall, her weaving flew out the window, tearing in pieces as it fell,

Elaine screamed and into the castle, and up the stairs to her chamber, where she found the mirror cracked, and her stool broken. The curse had taken its toll.

_In the stormy east-wind straining,_  
_The pale yellow woods were waning,_  
_The broad stream in his banks _   
_complaining_   
_Heavily the low sky raining_   
_Over tower'd Camelot;_   
_Down she came and found a boat_   
_Beneath a willow left afloat,_   
_And round about the prow she wrote_  
_'The Lady of Shalott'_

The rain was slow in coming. The wind whistled through the trees, and the river swelled in it's banks. A very weak Elaine stumbled around the grounds. Her whole world going blurry, yet in her deepest of heart she told herself,

"It was worth it!"

Walking down to the river's edge she found a boat, she didn't know who had left it there, but she took possession of it anyway. Taking a charcoal out of a pouch at her side she wrote her name about the prow,

_The Lady of Shallot. _

_And down the river's dim expanse_  
_Like some bold seer in a trance,_  
_Seeing all his own mischance--_  
_With a glassy countenance_  
_Did she look to Camelot._  
_And at the closing of the day_  
_she loosed the chain, and down she lay;_   
_the broad stream bore her far away,_  
_The Lady of Shalott___

Elaine crawled into the boat, and pulled the chain away, immediately the rough current pulled her away, down towards Camelot. Elaine clutched her side in pain, and collapsed in the boat half unconscious.

_Lying, robed in snowy white_  
_That loosely flew to left and right--_   
_The leaves upon her falling light--_  
_Thro' the noises of the night_  
_She floated down to Camelot:_  
_And as the boat-head wound along_  
_The willowy hills and fields among,_   
_They heard her singing her last song,_  
_The Lady of Shalott___

Elaine sat up, the night was engulfed everywhere. She was reaching Camelot. Her heart leapt, and the wind swarmed around her,

Elaine didn't know why, but her throat longed to sing, so as the night swam out, her voice went up in faint glory, a song she'd heard long ago,

"Lights do shelter me, in the castle of tapestry, not a tone of apathy; wait for my true love to come to me!"

_Heard a carol, mournful, holy,  
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,  
Till her blood was frozen slowly,  
and her eyes were darken'd wholly,  
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.  
For ere she reach'd upon the tide  
the first house by the water-side,  
singing in her song she died,  
The Lady of Shalott_

Elaine felt her life go black, yet she continued to sing, she being on the last verse,

"Feel his warm lips upon mine, he coming to me just in time, all my pain is now fine, yet cannot believe that I am dying!"

Elaine felt the life draw out of her, and she gave one last breath.

_Under tower and balcony,_  
_by garden-wall and gallery,_  
_A gleaming shape she floated by,_   
_Dead-pale between the houses high,_  
_Silent into Camelot._  
_Out upon the wharfs they came,_  
_Knight and burgher, lord and dame,_  
_and round the prow they read her name,_   
_The Lady of Shalott___

In the early morn Elaine's body floated into Camelot, men and women upon awaking were astonished when they stirred to witness a beautiful maid floating into the city.

_Who is this? And what is here?_  
_And in the lighted palace near_  
_Died the sound of royal cheer;_  
_and they cross'd themselves for fear,_   
_All the knights at Camelot:_   
_But Lancelot mused a little space;_  
_He said, "She has a lovely face;_   
_God in his mercy lend her grace,_   
_The Lady of Shalott."_

A great party was being held as King Arthur's castle. Every noble man, and virtueous woman were attending, Lancelot was there as well.

When abruptly a young page came running into the banquet hall crying, "There's a dead lady in the water!"

The guests all went rushing down to the river.

Everyone was staring in awe at the lovely creature,

"The Lady of Shallot," Sir Gwian read solemnly,

"Doth has a lovely face," Lancelot whispered wistfully,

"Yes," Gwian agreed,

"God in his mercy lend her grace," Lancelot uttered, and under his breath he muttered, "Goodbye my beautiful Elaine."

Please REVIEW!


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